Scaffolding
by My Vantilene
Summary: Breaking up is hard. It's hard and though Kankri can't understand, maybe there's something he can do about it.


For a horriblenightmare. Sorry about the ooc and implied headcanons.

* * *

The rich, warm golden-brown font flies across her screen a mile a minute as she sits there in utter disbelief. The font's warmth is gone, the sincerity of his words thinning as much as her patience to listen to him prattle on, trying to convince her what she saw was nothing. Her lungs sink in quicksand as she brings a single, dainty hand to her brightly painted lips. She opens her mouth to scream, scream with all she has left, and just release the ugly python of a feeling that has wrapped itself around her ribcage. She's never felt this way before, never has she been so incorrigibly _angry_, so saturated with absolute _rage_. But no matter how long she parts her crimson lips, not a sound escapes the depths of her quicksand-immersed lungs. This feeling that squeezes her very soul on the brink of suffocation, this terrible, terrible feeling, it isn't her. She's all smiles and rainbows and torchlight festivals, this sickening thirst for revenge, for compensation, she hates it more than actually being betrayed, though that stings deeply as well. But maybe that's what she deserves. Maybe she messed up somewhere with Rufioh, maybe she did something to dissatisfy him, or make him want to hurt her…what if all of this is her fault? Should she be apologizing?

No, that's stupid. She didn't cheat. She didn't lie.

But maybe it was something else?

Three sharp raps on the door cut through her inner mantra, and it takes a moment for her to rise out of her chair as her eyes still follow the cold brown darting across her screen. She finally pries her eyes away and opens the door.

Kankri stands on her grimy porch, his pants hiked up high above his waste, swallowing not only his bright grey skin, but also the bright, candy red of his polo shirt, he has a brown paper bag in his right hand with the weight of sixteen cartons of Troll Ben & Jerry, and tucked under his left elbow are a couple of Damara's favorite animes.

"Hey, Damara, I hope you don't mind I came over without calling first, if you do I can leave at any time, just say the word and I'm gone, because it really is improper of me to be imposing on you like this, Porrim always says it's rude to violate a woman's right like that, but for some reason despite that, I decided to come over because I had heard through word of mouth, or, well, that really isn't the best expression since all of our conversing is done over computers tw: #falsely used phrases, would the phrase through the grape vine be more suiting? Yes, I heard through the grape vine that Rufioh was not treating you with the respect Porrim always says a woman should be treated with, and, please excuse my language, no, here, I'll tag it tw: #language, to hell with a man like that, oh my, I am sorry to speak like that of our ex, really, I thought he was just as great as you, but he has proved to be quite the shifty gentlemen, I'd say. He had no right to do something like that to you, it is just plain awful. But it's his loss for choosing an over-privileged blueblood, tw: #hierarchy put-downs, over a lovely dame such as yourself, Damara, I suppose he had no idea the gem he had right in front of his face and now he's taken it from himself right from under his own nose, he's thrown away a glittering ruby and that is entirely his loss. I suppose the seemingly "lackluster" hierarchy of privilege has gotten to him and rotten his very pan, and I have been talking for a solid minute, no one ever let's me talk this long without walking away or hitting me, are you okay?"

She just opens the door wider and steps out of the threshold.

"Oh, so I can come in? Thank you, that's very kind. Your hive is very nice for a crimsonblood, for any blood really, mine's always in a wreck, but I guess you can't really come to expect much from a mutantblood, tw: #caste titles, I really like your posters, Troll Fruits Basket? Can't say I've ever seen that one, but I brought it and a couple others, I'm not really sure on your preference, but since you do have a poster, one can gander a guess that you enjoyed it? I hope you're not bored of it because I kind of wanted to watch it with you, you know, to keep your mind off of things, if you don't that's okay, I can leave if it triggers you, though I must admit it looks like a good one, I could always just watch it at home and then we could talk about it or compare notes, because I know I'm not the greatest person to watch something with, but perhaps if you listed anime-watching behaviors that trigger you, I could do my best to avoid those specifics, and I promise that if I need to comment on something, I will pause before doing so and if you need me to shut up, you can just hit me and I swear that I will, you know that I always do, but if you really don't want me to stay, I hope you at least take the ice cream because I hope you feel better and again you're letting me talk way more than anyone does, just shake your head if don't want me to stay or nod if you don't mind me staying, just so we can be clear."

Slowly, she nods her head.

Just as slowly, an ear-to-ear grin spreads across his face.

* * *

They're six episodes in, and not once has a word escaped Kankri's bottomless well of speeches. His lips twitch every few seconds, but not a syllable manages to make it past his defenses. To be honest, he owes half of this to the decency of the anime. It's actually pretty good. Not once has it been paused, but suddenly Damara picks up the remote and the scene freezes.

"What? Did I…did I trigger you with my anime-screening behavior? I'm terribly sorry, I'll just be on my way —" He tries to stand back on his feet, but she has a vice-grip on his arm and drags him back down on the couch. He looks dazed and his eyes are almost fogged with confusion as he just stares at her.

For the first time in his life, Kankri is speechless.

She stares down at the deep spoon marks marring the snowy-white vanilla and soft, creamy strawberry of her ice cream pint. The spoon makes small little thumps as she taps it against the center of the frozen dessert, beating it like a lackluster drummer.

"You know, even when we were together, Rufioh never really did anything like this for me. I mean, he was decent, but I never really expected that much from him, I just felt so lucky to have him, and I guess now my luck's run out. But…I don't think that's his fault, maybe I just wasn't good enough for him, or, I don't know, maybe I just wasn't…_sexually available _enough to keep him."

This is the first time Damara has ever spoken non-broken English to anyone, everyone had started to believe she really didn't know any. He, Kankri ever-loving Vantas, almost can't find the words.

"Damara. You should never do anything you're not comfortable just for the sake of some guy who isn't smart enough to realize how great you are. You did nothing wrong, absolutely nothing, you were your bright and charming self and he was blind. That is _his_ fault."

"B-but…I love him." Diluted red tears drip into her ice cream and sit festering on the top of the cavernous carton.

"And he does not deserve that love, Damara. You are so many things, so many wonderful, wonderful things and you deserve that love for yourself, not some two-timing, tasteless ass —! Oh, my, tw: #language, sorry about that, I don't know what came over…uh, the point is, you are a strong, independent female weeaboo and some jerk shouldn't be able to come in and ruin all of that for you. If you let this bring you down, you might as well have signed your own name in the Death Note."

She giggles at the reference, though there are still tears in her eyes, and her computer from the other room chirps with the news of a new message. She almost stands up, but it's Kankri's turn to keep her seated (though to be honest, it's the gesture of his arms on hers that makes her sit, not any actual force, because Kankri probably couldn't make a songbeast move if he tried to push it.)

He stands up instead, and heads over to her computer.

"It's Porrim!" he calls out across the hive. He takes her husktop back to the couch and Damara looks over his shoulder to see what they're saying.

DAMARA: Hell6, P6rr9m.

PORRIM: Kankri, what are yo+u do+ing o+ver there, yo+u're not messing with Damara I ho+pe? I made lunch, yo+u kno+w, it's go+ing to get co+ld.

DAMARA: 6kay, I kn6w I'm pr6bably the w6rst pers6n t6 be 6ffering any9ne c6mf6rt in a s9tuat96n like th9s, but I g9t here f9rst, s6 y9u can suck 9t.

DAMARA: Um…

DAMARA: P6rr9m?

PORRIM: KANKRI VANTAS WHAT THE FUCKING HELL DID YO+U JUST SAY TO+ ME? I KNO+W YO+U HATE IT WHEN I "CO+DDLE" YOU IN FRO+NT OF LATULA BUT DAMARA? I DO+ SO+ MUCH FO+R YO+U AND ALL YO+U DO+

Kankri shut the husktop, an exceedingly bright red blush dusted across his cheeks.

"Um, why don't we try watching Fruits Basket again?"

She just kind of stares at him, her mouth open slightly agape.

The gape turns into a small smile, and she gives a little cough, trying to use her forcedly broken English again.

"That would make very happy, thank you. You very nice Kankri, even if your mouth has no stop."

He smiles, though his lips twitch with a reply, and hits play.

She eventually falls asleep on his shoulder.

* * *

I almost made him say and a ching chong nip nong to you too, Damara.


End file.
